


The Roads Die at Intersections

by Veelez (Hyela)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Violence, threat of rape/sexual aggression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:55:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyela/pseuds/Veelez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Power, control, dominance... these are things that Derek are attracted to, things that he’d like for himself. Sometimes, he has to taste them a little by procuration. That is part of why he kept Peter close. Micah is a whole other animal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Roads Die at Intersections

**Author's Note:**

  * For [homoeroticismforthewin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/homoeroticismforthewin/gifts).



> Micah/Derek. Micah is my AU Alpha  
> Rated M for violence, threat of rape, sexual situation  
> Post Canon/Alternative Canon.  
> This is supposed to be part of something bigger, but since I still don't know if/when I'll publish it, I decided to post that one scene.

_You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you_  
 _You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you_  
 _Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I’ve got no soul to sell_  
 _Help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself_  
 _I want to fuck you like an animal_  
 _I want to feel you from the inside_  
 _I want to fuck you like an animal_  
 _My whole existence is flawed_  
 _You get me closer to god_  
~Nine Inch Nails, Closer

  
Derek felt the bone of his arm snap as the woman, Kali she’s named, threw him to the ground. Her acolytes were having a blast, one of them even giving her suggestions as to where to hit him. She didn’t need any suggestion.

  
Kali studied in medicine, and it shows. She knows which places hurt the most, where to hit to get a satisfied crunch of a bone, what move to make to inflict sufficient pain. A Lady of Pain, that’s what she was.

  
Of course, being a werewolf, Derek healed pretty fast —except for the long gashes dug by the sharp claws at her feet— but the incessant blows still hurt like hell and the woman looked like she could go on forever. Her expression was closed and cold. Only a few worrying, teeth-grounding noises stole a small, self-satisfied smile from her. Kali was a professional, but she still indulged just a little bit in her job. After all, what was the point if you couldn’t enjoy what you did?

  
There was nothing Derek could do about it. He tried to defend himself at first, out of pride, but his adversary was a much better, and much more dangerous fighter. She blocked most of his attacks and her response afterwards was twice as fierce and brutal. In the end, like a pathetic little prey, he let himself be beaten, be tossed around like a ragged doll, hoping it would stop soon. The bitter taste of shame was still in his mouth, mixed with the blood. He had no intention of giving anything away, and they knew it, but they appeared to be making an example out of him. They wanted to beat him until his thoughts were nothing more than a ‘Please, no more’ chant. Establishing dominance by ridiculing and pissing on the challenging Alpha.

  
They were failing for the moment, as Derek was enduring the pain, concentrating on the growing rage he felt, on his everlasting anger, on the psychological pain rather than the physical one. He could feel his body break, heal, and break again, his flesh and muscles burning everywhere and his face a mess of sweat, blood and tears.

  
Finally, she stopped.

  
Her cellphone had went off. Derek crawled away from her, trying to catch his breath. He heard mocking murmurs, but couldn’t be bothered to concentrate enough to hear what they were saying. He did, though, try to process the conversation that was going on between Kali and the person on the phone.

  
Apparently, he needed her assistance with something and dealing with Derek was becoming secondary. Like he was thrash and they could take him out after doing their real important tasks. The feeling twisted his guts. He was already disrespected within his own pack, he didn’t have to know how low he was in the opinion of his enemies.

  
“That is enough,” ordered Kali, ignoring him, “We have to meet with Deucalion in about ten. I advise you to keep the jokes for later.”

  
The laughter stopped abruptly at the mention of the Alpha. The young twins got up from the place they were sitting and quickly found their way out. They were followed by Ennis, who snorted and spit right next to Derek’s head.

‘You missed, you baboon,’ he thought, fuming.

Kali massaged her arms and hands, spreading the blood on her dark skin without a care, and tried to rearrange her disarrayed black hair. Then, she pointed to the last member of the merry group, who was slowly getting up.

  
“Not you. It would be uncivil to just leave our guest bathing in his own blood while he comes back to his senses. You can take care of him. I would advise you to not damage him too much.” She then smiled sweetly at the man. “I will see you later, Micah. Good Bye, Derek Hale.”

  
She left.

  
Derek turned painfully on his back to get a better look at his new opponent, his conscience yelling at him that it’d be an even more vulnerable position to be in. He did not care. He wanted to see.

  
Micah was even taller than Ennis —that meant over six foot five— but less large. Still, he was damn impressive. He was all squares and muscles, strong-jawed and big-handed. His deep brown eyes reflected a certain intelligence and a knack for observing and analysing. His hair was crazy, though —short, but going in every possible direction.

  
If someone could do damage, this was this guy. Derek frowned, but kept himself from gulping or doing anything that would embarrass him further more. He had to keep a strong front until the end.

  
Micah grinned, large, sharp yellowed teeth. Derek thought he looked like what humans imagined when they thought of the big bad wolf in a human form.

  
“Look at you. All tense; trying to keep everything in.” His voice was a purr, a low seductive drawl. He uneasily thought of Peter, inevitably making a rapprochement.  
Micah’s voice was more compelling, though. Peter’s tended to grind on his nerves, because Peter’s was always obviously either taunting or pitying, no matter how Peter tried to sound compassionate. Micah’s tone was genuine, not hiding anything. Not overly self-righteous or superior.

  
“Derek, darling, I’m afraid that accumulating pain and stress like that will only weaken you in the end. You must embrace what you feel, let it roam free. Or you’ll crack. Although, with what Kali did to you, you did crack quite a bit. Tst tst.”

  
Micah suddenly approached him in a swift, gracious movement, and crouched before him. Derek tried to sit, but a big hand pushed on his chest. The strength was appalling. Derek hadn’t felt something like this since he had confronted the Kanima. Since he had fought with other wolves.

  
“Now, now. I am not done talking, dumpling. Be nice and stay still.”

  
Derek bit the inside of his cheek. The other round would be rough. This guy looked like a sadist, the kind who does his job slowly and with delectation.

  
“Come on... go ahead,” he encouraged Micah spitefully, “I know you’re boiling with anticipation to break me. Don’t deny it to yourself any longer.”

  
This won him a nice, suave laugh. Derek shivered. The man shook his head and raised a hand. His nails slowly became crooked claws. “I don’t do that, Derek. I do not keep things inside until I simply explode. It is not my style at all. I remain in control and I act patiently, simply because I frequently indulge myself. Give in to temptation.”

  
Then, what he did iced Derek’s blood: he put his paws on Derek’s thighs and opened his legs. Derek, who had felt resigned and prepared until now, jolted up right and tried to close his legs, but Micah circled his ankles tightly with his long fingers and pulled him brusquely towards him. Derek lost his balance, but didn’t fall back on his back. He pushed on Micah’s shoulders, snarling, panicking, transforming, while the older man just kept on pulling, hands now on Derek’s waist, and grinning.

  
Derek, who had gotten a bit of his forces back, threw a punch, but Micah endured it, like it was nothing. He just kept smiling and staring at Derek, watching him squirm. That was when Derek understood that, the bigger fuss he made out of this, the most satisfaction he was giving to Micah. He had forgotten under the weight of bad memories and the new, unexpected threat looming over him.

  
So he stopped struggling and stared right into Micah’s eyes, who were still brown and not red, contrary to his own. Micah raised a hand and started petting his blood-coated hair, slowly. Derek stiffened, but did nothing to stop him. He could still feel the growl dying to escape his throat.

  
“There, there, little lamb. You are not exactly in measure to stop me from doing anything. All you are doing is tiring yourself.” The hand went down to his neck, caressing it before Micah’s thumb pressed on his throat slightly. “Now, there’s no reason to agitate yourself just yet. I am only talking. Is that fine with you?”

The underlying menace was clear, but again, the voice seemed genuine, a cradling, comforting thing in it. Derek nodded despite himself.

  
“Good. See Derek, as you might have notice, our little group does not deal in feelings of pity or camaraderie. You and your young friends are better to stop hoping to change our minds by talking or pointing out to your own suffering and sense of honour or morality. We have our own.”

  
“I know that. I always knew that.” Derek let out between his teeth.

  
“Do you?” retorted Micah, an amused glint in his eyes, “You did not seem surprised when Kali attacked you, but you resisted. I think you are still hung out to your little values, losing sight of ours.”

  
“What is your point?”

  
“Let’s do a little demonstration, then...”

  
With the hand that was on Derek’s neck, Micah pushed him on his back. Derek’s head hit the floor rather abruptly, making him see stars for a few seconds. Micah took these seconds to slide upon Derek’s form, gripping his wrists and efficiently pining him to the ground. Derek’s first instinct was to immediately start to struggle, but he restrained himself, curious about what point Micah was trying to make. He doubted he was going to like it, but resistence seemed futile.

Micah grinned down at him. “Now, concentrate a bit. I am in position of power. You are a mere prey. I am the doer. You are forced to be passive. You are made to submit to me. To my... every desire.” He ground himself against Derek, his hardening erection painfully obvious. Derek, surprising himself, arched his back, meeting the older man. A shiver went through him as Micah let out a low rumble. “There you go... being the party forced to submit means that you have something we want. Or else, we wouldn’t bother trying to tame you.”

“Still not seeing... are you... are you trying to tell me that I should play it?”

“I’m saying... you’ll gain nothing by obvious resistance. You should always try to take the situation to your advantage by analysing it. Struggling when you are physically weak, or simply accepting things as they come... not the way to happiness, my dear.”

Derek leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. It’s been a while since he had kissed anyone, let alone initiated anything, but he still had the hang of it, finding his way in. He arched his body again, pressing himself up completely against Micah, who was enthusiastically busying himself with the kiss. After a few moment, there it was. An opening. The grip on his wrists loosening, what with Micah’s urge to put his hands elsewhere. Derek managed to leap and soon, after using Micah’s weight against him, he reversed their position, ending up sitting on the man’s waist, panting.

Micah laughed. He grinned up and patted Derek’s hip playfully.

“You learn fast. That’s good. Now see, you got to work with our vision of the world to take it apart. Even if it hurts yours. Even if your pride is affected. That’s how you play. Your strategy of going into things head first is too primitive, darling.”

“But why...!” exclaimed Derek, confusion making him forget to get away from Micah. In a flash, the man was sitting, resuming their earlier position.

“That’s not for you to know now. I must admit, I have my own agenda...” Micah muttered before seizing Derek by the throat, this time with both hands. “And you better keep that for yourself, little one. Not a word of this conversation with your little betas, alright?”

Derek nodded, stunned. He hadn’t hoped for any sort of ally with any of the alphas. Even the hunters were still not on their side, working in the shadows, refusing to join forces unless it was strictly necessary.

Micah nodded in turn and his hands went back to petting Derek’s hair, carefully. It seems like his erection, that was still letting itself be felt, was all forgotten. Micah only leaned forward and kissed Derek on the forehead. Like he was a child. Derek was too flabbergasted to protest.

“Alright, darling. Let me get up and I’ll escort you back home, so you can lick your wounds.”

Derek obeyed, the need to do so burning in his chest.


End file.
